Page 106 of All For You

I kissed her neck. “What about I live with you here?” I had a moment of panic that she might reject the wild idea. “If you invite me?” I added.

“Live here with me?” she said, now wider awake, but as if she didn’t quite believe me. “But your business is two hours away in London, and Pemberley is three hours north.”

I thought back to what Tim had told me. That he would travel many hours to see Tabitha for one hour. He said I would know when I’d found my person, but I already had. I thought about how much he was going to gloat when I admitted he was right.

“I can’t be apart from you, and you are worth traveling the distance,” I said. “Is it walking distance to the train?”

She chuckled sleepily. “Sprinting distance, if I know you’re coming home.”

“Perfect. I’ll bet the dogs will love that path. And I loveyou.” I curled into her. “So, like I said. Perfect.”

Epilogue

LIZZY

Six months later…

“Gosh. What are you wearing?”I asked Darcy as he emerged from our bedroom.

I scanned him from head to toe. Wow.

He usually wore a dark suit and white shirt to a smart restaurant. But for some reason, tonight, he’d chosen a completely different outfit—a long, dark jacket, ruffled white shirt, and high boots, all of which I’d never seen on him before.

His outfit seemed from another era. Had our plans changed?

We were in my—our—cottage, and I thought we were preparing to leave for my birthday dinner. We were celebrating with our families tomorrow night. Tonight, Darcy had booked a romantic new restaurant in the forest that allowed pets.

The dogs bounded between us, barking playfully, and I smiled. This cottage had been right for me and Oodles, but it had shrunk a bit with the addition of Darcy, Max, and Topaz six months ago, though I loved the chaos of the five of us squashed together. I opened the door and let the doggy commotion out onto the front lawn.

Darcy held the lapels of his new jacket. “You don’t like my outfit?”

“I like what I can see, but give me a better look.” Not only did his jacket seem like it was from the era that was illustrated on the covers of my novels, but so did his shirt. “Are you dressed as…Regency?” I asked. Amused and confused at the same time, I didn’t know whether to bite my lip or grin.

“Yes, I had this outfit made up.” He fingered the ruffled cuffs of his shirt. “Thought I could wear it when I’m being a fanboy at your readings too.”

I grinned. He’d caused a stir when he turned up to my readings ofScowly at First Sight. Which was, as anyone who knew us guessed, a retelling of our meeting, but written as Victoria’s story. Darcy joked that he was owed some credit for lobbying for Victoria’s story as next, but truthfully, he was owedmuchof the credit as the inspiration for my novel and the reason I was inspired to write again. Because I had hope.

Which brought me back to his outfit. The man was going to cause an absolute stampede at my readings.

“And those trousers…” I tapped my finger on my lips.

“Do they look ridiculous?” he said. “I borrowed a pair of Regency trousers from a friend, who had them in the museum part of his house, and had them copied.”

He didn’t seem that worried about being ridiculous, to be honest. Another change since I’d met him.

The pants were in a stretchy pale-gray material, which emphasized the bulk of his thighs, and, oh God, my mouth went dry. A warmth flushed through my body. Goose bumps prickled on my arms.

And what about…

“Lift up your jacket and let me see the back?” I asked.

He did as I bid with a bit of a flourish. Whoa. His arse looked unbelievable in those trousers, every muscle and dip emphasized.

I sighed. “You dressed in Regency for me?”

“Yes,” he said, turning to face me.

My heart warmed at how out of his comfort zone this was for him.